Page 31 of Pervade Montego Bay

Oliver studied my bruised face with disapproval. “Want to tell me what happened in Macau?”

“Not particularly.” I gave a nod at the helicopter. “Where are they taking him?”

“Looks like it’s your turn to be out of the loop, James,” he shouted.

James

On the way back home, I had a long time on theHMS Renownedto replay the catastrophe of Macau. The way they’d extracted Xavier from the vessel without consulting me filled me with a quiet rage. This was way off protocol.

London was as gloomy as when I’d left it for the trip down to Portsmouth, where the journey of a thousand cuts had begun aboard that nuclear sub.

Standing before my boss’ desk back in Vauxhall, I tried to gauge his mood. Terrance Farmer, otherwise known as ‘C’ for Chief—though I substituted another “c” word on days like this—was a man I’d once respected. At the moment he seemed distracted and uncomfortable in my presence, like I was taking up too much of his time. All five fucking minutes of it.

Farmer, with his long face and cold eyes, could be a grumpy bastard at times but today he was even more wound up. He looked older than his years. Serving in Berlin before the wall had come down had obviously taken a toll on his body and soul. Despite his frosty demeanor, I had always tried to see beyond his sternness to his more amenable side. Two years ago, he had offered me a civilian position with MI6 and it had altered the trajectory of my life. I’d retired from the Navy and had finally put to good use the linguistic skills I’d refined at Eton.

After losing Victoria, I’d found being on a submarine for long periods of time suffocating. Something had changed and I’d been unable to define what it was exactly, so I’d looked for an out. It had been Farmer who’d given me an exit plan.

Inside this secret agency, I’d discreetly dug around in my wife’s old files. She had served here after leaving Cambridge, right up until her death. My work, and looking for anything that would lead me to understand what had happened to her, had kept me busy. Not having personal relationships was a side effect of my efforts to understand why my life had gone downhill so fast.

Right now, Terrance and I were at an impasse.

He leaned back in his office chair. “You left quite the mess, James.”

My still being alive didn’t factor in, apparently. Though this was standard for my profession so no surprise there.

“Can we talk about the lieutenant?” I moved over to the chair in front of his desk.

He gestured to stop me from sitting. “I’m expecting a call from the Prime Minister. Let’s meet at the club later.”

“Don’t you want to be debriefed?”

“Not necessary.”

“I have questions of my own.”

“I’m sure you do. Let’s not get into them now.”

“The vehicle that crashed into my Jeep—it was being driven by one of our operatives?”

“Who told you that?”

I stood my ground. “My report—”

“Unnecessary. We’ve cleaned up the damage.” He sat forward. “Take time off.”

“Xavier hinted there could be something nefarious—”

“Xavier?”

“That’s his real name, right? The lieutenant involved?”

He pushed to his feet. “Forget this one, James.”

His way of ordering me out.

I gave a nod. “Give my love to Chelsea.”

“Of course.”